


Lost in the Supermarket

by thranjewel



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Parent Thranduil, Thranduil and Bard are useless but in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3868675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thranjewel/pseuds/thranjewel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Thranduil is a single teenage dad, but keeps it secret from his friends at school. When Legolas gets lost in a supermarket, Thranduil has to ask Bard—a supermarket employee and schoolmate—for help. The encounter makes them see each other in a new light...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in the Supermarket

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from, or why I thought it was a good idea to write it, but here it is! I hope you get some enjoyment from it!
> 
> (I own nothingggggg)

Bard Bowman didn’t hate working in a supermarket. Far from it, but he didn’t exactly love it either. He got on well with his colleagues, who he constantly had to stand up for against their tyrannical boss, who they snidely called “the Master”. The Master, despite his authoritarian rule, was slack, and Bard often found himself having to act like he was the boss. Today was one of those days; the master had gone home early and left Bard to take care of the store. He had been busily rushing around for an hour or so, and was finally having some downtime, reading a book while managing the quiet Customer Enquires counter. This downtime, however, didn’t last long.

One reason Bard was pleased with his job was that it was on the other side of town from his high school, and so the number of classmates he had to awkwardly encounter was few. Granted, it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did, but the school’s social hierarchy didn’t exactly favour him, and he was grateful for any time he spent away from it.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t always avoid it. Today he was particularly unlucky, for the pinnacle of that hierarchy had just breezed into the store. Thranduil Greenleaf was, quite simply, the most popular person in the school. Bard had long been taunted by Thranduil’s friends, who had managed to make his life miserable during his first few years of high school. It now being their last year, they had toned it down, but still never missed an opportunity to tease him. Though Thranduil had never directly been cruel to him, if the others were not under his command, they were at very least not opposed by him in their torture.

Bard therefore had many reasons to dislike Thranduil intensely, and a part of him did. Yet another part was in awe of him. He wouldn’t be the first to admit there was something strangely compelling, almost ethereal about him. To Bard, Thranduil seemed both terrible and beautiful, like a white-hot flame; its danger hidden until, reaching to touch it, you are burnt. Bard did not want to be burnt. At least, that’s what he told himself.

Tearing his gaze away quickly, Bard slumped down in his seat, glad he wasn’t on checkouts where he would be likely to run into him.

A little while later, Bard had managed to put Thranduil from his mind, and was enjoying his book when he sensed movement in front of the counter. He looked up absently, and then did a double take. A very worried looking Thranduil was striding towards him. He felt like his heart was trying to beat its way free of his chest.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” Bard was amazed his voice remained steady, and calmed down a little. If Thranduil was aware that he knew Bard, he didn’t show it. Bard was tried not to be disappointed.

“I need you to make an announcement. My…” Thranduil paused suddenly in the middle of his fast, anxious sentence, for he was very aware that he knew him, or more importantly that they attended the same school, and was being careful “…brother. Little brother. He just disappeared! He must have run away when I wasn’t looking… he’s very energetic. Could you announce it over the speakers? His name is Legolas, he’s three. He has blonde hair. And he’s wearing a green jumper.”

“Oh- I, of course. Give me a moment.” Bard didn’t know Thranduil had siblings, and wondered what else he didn’t know about him as he made the announcement.

Thranduil, for his part, was incredibly stressed. Not only had he lost Legolas, but he was dangerously close to having his secret slip. He and his friends had been less than kind to Bowman in the past. If he found out Legolas was his son, he wouldn’t blame him if he told the whole school in order to ruin his reputation among their conservative schoolmates.

Thranduil loved Legolas very much, and his desire to keep him secret wasn’t because he was ashamed. Rather, he had dug himself so deeply into popularity he knew nothing else; he was reliant on it as an element of shallow consistency in his life. A once-stable life, turned suddenly chaotic by the birth of his son and loss of his girlfriend; both events which his following at school knew nothing of. Thranduil very much wanted it to stay that way.

He wished he hadn’t been so cruel to Bowman in the past; hadn’t let his friends treat him so badly. But Bowman was strange, and it had been an easy distraction. Looking at him now, as he spoke into the intercom, Thranduil realised that he had a kind face, caring eyes.

He regretted his cruelty deeply.

“Done. I’m sure he’ll turn up soon. Where abouts were you when you lost him? You wait here in case he heard the announcement, and I’ll go have a look around. We’ll find him.”

“We were near the hair-care section.” said Thranduil, and as Bard walked away he continued quietly: “Thank you, Bard.”

Bard just about jumped in shock, and his mind began spinning. He had recognised him!

While Bard was gone, Thranduil paced nervously. The possibility of Legolas not being found was too painful to even consider, so he tried in vain to convince himself it was fine. Legolas was probably just excited by something he saw and ran off after it. He was just an energetic kid. He knew that; he kicked himself for not keeping a better eye on him. He was probably lonely and scared by now, probably crying. He was such a terrible father! Poor Legolas! His guilt threatened to overwhelm him.

Then another thought occurred to him—Bard. If Bard found him he might mention that his “brother” was worried for him. Or Legolas might be crying for his dad. He officially decided that this was not going to end well.

Thranduil was nearly crying himself by the time Bard returned. He looked over to see Bard approaching, little Legolas clinging to his hand, and cried out involuntarily:

“Legolas!”

“Daddy!” Legolas yelled and let go of Bard’s hand, toddling into Thranduil’s outstretched arms. Thranduil held him close, stroked his hair and wiped his damp face.

“What happened Legs? Don’t you go running off like that again, ok? You had me worried!”  
Legolas nodded but said nothing, growing shy as Bard approached.  Thranduil picked up Legolas and stood.

“I, um- thank you so much, Bard. Where did you find him?”

“I found him sitting in the pet food istle, crying his little eyes out, poor boy. Oh, and he was holding this…” Bard passed over a perfume bottle, and Thranduil’s breath caught.

 Legolas snatched the bottle from Thranduil and held it to his chest. Thranduil sighed.

“Oh. That’s… um. This is all my fault, then.” Thranduil laughed unconvincingly “I er, I told him the other day, well… he was asking, so I told him… um, his mother smelt like flowers and was as beautiful as… pure starlight. He must have seen the bottle and thought… oh, I don’t know.”

Bard looked down at the perfume bottle. Its label, shaped like a star, was covered in flowers. The brand name, written in looping cursive, was “Pure”. His heart gave a little pang. The little boy had run off after a memento of his mother. 

Looking from Legolas to Thranduil, Bard was utterly stumped. He debated whether or not to mention that Legolas had called Thranduil “daddy”, and wondered why Thranduil had spoken of Legolas’s mother in the past-tense. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Please excuse me if this is rude, but um, I didn’t… I didn’t know you had a son, I-”

“Nor does anyone.” said Thranduil, hoping to convey his meaning.

“Oh. I-I see.” Bard stumbled “I won’t… I mean, if you don’t want anyone to know… um, they won’t.”

In that moment, Thranduil realised how beautiful Bard was. His kindness shone through like pure starlight.

“You’re so kind, Bard. I don’t deserve your good will. Thank you.”

“You do deserve it.” Bard muttered, thinking Thranduil wouldn’t hear.

“Not yet, but maybe one day I will.” He smiled “Legolas and I would love to have you visit sometime, right Legs?”

Legolas nodded shyly.

“Should we make him dinner to say thank you?”

Legolas frowned and said: “Nooo, cake!”

Thranduil laughed, and looked at Bard. “It’s settled then, come over for Legolas’s thank you cake sometime. I’ll give you my address…”

* * *

 

Later, when Bard watched the strange pair leave the store, his mind was in turmoil. He looked down at the receipt in his hands, on the back of which was written Thranduil’s address in a neat, looping script. But his eyes paid no attention to the address; they were focused instead on the very bottom of the paper where Thranduil had written his name, and signed it off with one tiny, perfect love heart.

It was safe to say that the day’s encounter had changed everything.


End file.
